There is, however, a general agreement that Quirinus was another form of Mars, having his abode on the hill which still goes by his name. That Mars and Quirinus were ever the same deities was indeed denied by so acute an inquirer as Ambrosch[[1452]]; but he denied it partly on the ground that no trace of the worship of Mars had been found on the Quirinal; and since his time two inscriptions have been found there on the same spot, one at least of great antiquity, which indicate votive offerings to Mars and Quirinus respectively[[1453]]. From these Mommsen concludes that Quirinus was at one time worshipped there under the name of Mars; which involves also the converse, that Mars was once worshipped under the adjectival cult-title Quirinus. Unluckily Mars Quirinus is a combination as yet undiscovered; and as the existence of a patrician Flamen Quirinalis distinct from the Flamen Martialis points at least to a very early differentiation of the two, it may be safer to think of the two, not as identical deities, but rather as equivalent cult-expressions of the same religious conception in two closely allied communities[[1454]].
That the Quirinal was the seat of the cult of Quirinus admits of no doubt; and the name of the hill, which we are told was originally Agonus or Agonalis[[1455]], arose no doubt from the cult[[1456]]. Here were probably two temples of the god, the one dating from B.C. 293, and having June 29 as its day of dedication; the other of unknown date, which celebrated its birthday on the Quirinalia[[1457]]. A ‘sacellum Quirini in colle’ is also mentioned at the time of the Gallic invasion[[1458]] (this was perhaps the predecessor of the temple of June 29), and also the house of the Flamen Quirinalis which adjoined it. To the Quirinal also belong the Salii Agonenses, Collini, or Quirinales, who correspond to the Salii of the Palatine and of Mars[[1459]]. And here, lastly, seems to belong the mysterious Flora or Horta Quirini, whose temple, according to Plutarch[[1460]], was ‘formerly’ always open. About the cult of Quirinus on his hill we know, however, nothing, except that there were two myrtles growing in front of his temple, one called the patrician and the other the plebeian[[1461]], and to which a curious story is attached. Preller[[1462]] noted that these correspond to the two laurels in the sacrarium Martis in the Regia, and conjectured that each pair symbolized the union of the state in the cults of the two communities.
Of the duties of the Flamen Quirinalis we have already seen something[[1463]]: unluckily they throw little or no new light on the cult of Quirinus. He was concerned in the worship of Robigus, of Consus, and of Acca Larentia, all of them ancient cults of agricultural Rome; and he seems to have been in close connexion with the Vestal Virgins[[1464]]. These are just such duties as we might have expected would fall to the Flamen of Mars; and probably the two cults were much alike in character.
vii Kal. Mart. (Feb. 23.) NP.
TER[MINALIA]. (CAER. MAFF. RUST. PHILOC. SILV.)
Was there any connexion between the Terminalia and the end of the year? The Roman scholars thought so; Varro[[1465]] writes, ‘Terminalia quod is dies anni extremus constitutus; duodecimus enim fuit Februarius, et quum intercalatur, inferiores quinque dies duodecimo demuntur mense.’ So Ovid,
Tu quoque sacrorum, Termine, finis eras.
But Terminus is the god of the boundaries of land, and has nothing to do with time; and the Terminalia is not the last festival of the year in the oldest calendars. The Romans must have been misled by the coincidence of the day of Terminus with the last day before intercalation. The position in the year of the rites to be described seems parallel to that of the Compitalia and Paganalia, which were concerned with matters of common interest to a society of farmers: and we may remember that Pliny[[1466]] said of the Fornacalia that it was ‘farris torrendi feriae et aeque religiosae terminis agrorum.’
The ritual of the Terminalia in the country districts is described by Ovid[[1467]]. The two landowners garlanded each his side of the boundary-stone, and all offerings were double[[1468]]. An altar is made; and fire is carried from the hearth by the farmer’s wife, while the old man cuts up sticks and builds them in a framework of stout stakes. Then with dry bark the fire is kindled; from a basket, held ready by a boy[[1469]], the little daughter of the family thrice shakes the fruits of the earth into the fire, and offers cakes of honey. Others stand by with wine; and the neighbours (or dependants) look on in silence and clothed in white. A lamb is slain, and a sucking-pig, and the boundary-stone sprinkled with their blood; and the ceremony ends with a feast and songs in praise of holy Terminus.
This rite was, no doubt, practically a yearly renewal of that by which the stone was originally fixed in its place. The latter is described by the gromatic writer Siculus Flaccus[[1470]]. Fruits of the earth, and the bones, ashes, and blood of a victim which had been offered were put into a hole by the two (or three) owners whose land converged at the point, and the stone was rammed down on the top and carefully fixed. The reason given for this was of course that the stone might be identified in the future, e. g. by an arbiter, if one should be called in[[1471]]; but it also reminds us of the practice of burying the remains of a victim[[1472]], and the use of the blood shows the extreme sanctity of the operation.